


Blood and Water

by 16pennies



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Drabble, Episode: s05e16 Doctor Bashir I Presume, Gen, M/M, Missing Scene, this episode needed garak so I made it happen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-27 03:12:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13871883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/16pennies/pseuds/16pennies
Summary: After the disastrous dinner with his parents, Julian finds himself alone in the corridor. Looking up, he sees Garak standing before him, curiously observing his human friend huddled on the ground.





	Blood and Water

**Author's Note:**

> Woohoo my first ds9 fic!! Found it lurking in my fic folder and decided it deserved to see the light of day. Shout out to my gf for editing and encouragement.

            Their voices still managed to bleed through the thick wall at Julian’s back, so he pressed the heels of his hands into his ears. It didn’t matter, really. He’d heard this argument a hundred times before. His mother, distressed and scolding his father for his lack of tact. Richard, adamantly refusing to take any fucking _responsibility_ for anything. Eventually, they’d come to a stalemate and it would be bearable for a little while until the next time Julian opened his mouth and then it would start all over again, the same never-ending loop that had been cycling since he was fifteen. Except now the stakes had been raised—higher than when he wanted to be a professional athlete, higher even than when he had to lie his way into Starfleet because then, _then_ it had been about giving up the _possibility_ of a dream whereas now there were friends and loved ones and a whole bloody _life_ he would lose in an instant if they said the wrong thing and he knew his parents and he knew his father couldn’t keep his bloody mouth shut, couldn’t stand not being able to boast about his greatest achievement, the perfect boy he couldn’t tell anyone he’d constructed—

            “Doctor?”

            Julian flinched so violently he nearly hit his head on the wall. Looking up, he found Garak standing before him, curiously observing his human friend huddled on the ground. Julian’s heart had been pounding so fiercely he hadn’t even heard him approach. “Not now, Garak,” and he grumpily returned his head to his hands.

            “Of course, doctor, if you wish to be alone I will most certainly leave you to yourself. I merely heard a rumour—” _He knows, good god, he_ knows _, he hacked the computer and monitored my parents and they said something and he heard and now he knows—_ “And I confess I was… intrigued.”

            Julian stared at Garak’s shiny brown shoes. “What did you hear?”

            “Why, that your parents are aboard.”

            “You’re right. Unfortunately.”

            Garak chuckled at Julian’s frustrated sigh. “I take it they’re in there?” Julian assumed Garak had just gestured at the door behind him and nodded his head. The feet in front of him shifted, then left his field of enhanced vision. A rustling of fabric and Julian was no longer alone on the floor. “And are we pouting outside the door as a pre-emptive exercise?”

            “Oh, no, Garak, we have very much earned the right to sit here.” The bitterness in his own voice took him aback and for a moment he tensed, but this was Garak and if he had learned anything over the last five years it was that Garak was not easily pushed away.

            “Well, now I’m most definitely interested in meeting them.”

            Julian scoffed. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

            “Oh? It’s only fair. You’ve met _my_ father, who I think we can both agree was hardly the epitome of paternal devotion.”

            “Perhaps they’d get along.”

            “Who?”

            “Your father and mine.”

            “An intriguing hypothesis, Doctor, but one I’m afraid we will never have the opportunity to test.”

            Julian said nothing as he brought his face away from his hands and leaned back against the wall. The shadows along the dim corridor suddenly seemed an awful lot like the menacing silhouettes of Jem’Hadar.

            “I’m sorry I couldn’t save him, you know.”

            “Don’t be. He hardly deserves it.” Garak’s voice was as flat as Julian’s.

            “Maybe not, but you do.”

            “Pardon?”

            “He was important to you. That’s reason enough. So… I’m sorry.”

            Silence. The voices inside the guest quarters had softened. Garak was either at a loss for words or trying to change the subject by refusing to speak. They hadn’t discussed this at all, their experience in the Dominion camp. Granted, this was probably not the ideal time or place, but what the hell: if he was about to be expelled from the station, he may as well start tying up loose ends.

            “You know, it’s a pity your parents couldn’t have paid a visit a few weeks ago.”

            “What? And encountered the changeling version of me?” Julian blanched. “No, don’t even joke about that.” _Oh god, do the Founders know? There’s no possible way, they can’t—_ “You know, I still don’t feel comfortable in my quarters knowing that they lived there for a month. I keep thinking my possessions are changelings, and they’re going to attack me in my sleep.”

            “I see. And that is why you’ve taken to spending your leisure time on the floor of the habitat ring corridor.”

            Julian’s lips quirked and he silently cursed Garak’s uncanny ability to insult him into feeling just a little bit better. “I was planning on going back inside to dinner once I… cooled off,” he admitted, turning to glance at the door beside him. He could feel Garak shift on his other side.

            “By all means, Doctor, don’t let me keep you.”

            Now Julian actually laughed, a brisk expulsion of tension. “On the contrary, I’d prefer you keep me as long as you like.” With a huff, he pushed himself to stand on his long legs and finally brought himself to look at Garak’s face. Julian had to hold back a smile at the sight of the Cardassian on the floor, legs bent and elbows resting on his knees. Almost child-like. The notion was bizarre. He held out a hand to his expectant friend. “Come on, I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

            “That’s quite a pity, Doctor,” Garak grunted as Julian helped him to his feet.

            “And why’s that?”

            Garak made a fuss over readjusting his clothes as he answered, “Because I was about to invite you to dinner with _me_.”

            “With you?”

            “Yes, Doctor. There is no trace of a changeling in my quarters, I assure you—well, except for the occasional visit from Constable Odo, though I hardly think you’ll find that cause for concern—and, as many of my meals with you over the past weeks were not _actually_ with you at all, I do believe you owe me.”

            Julian smiled, really properly smiled this time. “Well, how can I argue with that?” He pressed a hand to Garak’s shoulder blade and began steering them away from his parents’ quarters, somewhat darkly pleased that while they were stuck with the residue of their argument for company, he would have a far more pleasant dinner companion. “I do have one condition, I’m afraid.”

            “Oh? And what might that be?”

            “Call me Julian.”


End file.
